


A Visit

by Xerxia



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Compliant, Multi, everlark, galone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 04:01:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5613241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xerxia/pseuds/Xerxia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gale returns to District 12.  Post Mockingjay/Pre-epilogue Canon compliant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Visit

**Author's Note:**

> This was my entry for round one of the Everlark Games fic challenge, hosted on tumblr by fyeah-everlark. The theme was Canon and the topic came from a prompt.

Sitting in the small office in Peeta’s bakery, I’m trying to make sense of what feels like a hundred invoices and purchase orders. How there can possibly be this much paperwork for one little bakery is beyond me, but I promised Peeta that I’d try to learn to do the books, to help him but also to be more invested in the bakery myself since I don’t bake and I’m not very good at helping customers out front. All of these ledgers, this is nowhere near as easy as I’d imagined it being. I’m starting to wonder if maybe keeping the bakery’s books is why his mother was such a witch. 

 

While I’m contemplating hiding some of the invoices to make things easier, I hear Peeta’s uneven footsteps approach. Though he tries, he’s simply never learned to walk quietly. I glance up as he pops his head in the doorway, but the smile dies on my lips as I catch his expression. I’m on my feet and standing in front of him before he can say a word.

 

“Peeta?” I ask, cupping his face and searching his eyes. The pupils are normal sized; he’s not having a flashback, but anxiety is written all over his face and in the tense way he’s holding his body. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

 

“Nothing,” he says tightly, and completely unbelievably. I raise an eyebrow at him. He pulls me close and holds me, his face tucked into my neck. I stand still, stroking his back calmingly, not saying anything, just letting him pull himself together. After a few moments he pulls away, and looking over my shoulder sighs. “There’s someone here to see you.”

 

“Who?”

 

He won’t meet my eyes. “Gale.”

 

“Gale?” I hiss. I knew avoiding him forever was unlikely, his family lives in District 12 now, just down the street from us. But I’d bribed Rory into promising he’d give me a head’s up if Gale decided to come for a visit. A month’s worth of lessons with the bow it had cost me, and the kid hadn’t even pulled through. “I’m going to kick Rory’s ass,” I mumble. Peeta looks at me questioningly, but I just shake my head. “I don’t want to see him.” I cross my arms over my chest.  Gale walked out of my life in the Capitol and that was fine with me. Talking to Gale means confronting Gale, and confronting Gale means thinking about my sister and the horrible, senseless way she died, and thinking about that makes me want to curl up in my closet and scream until the thoughts are gone.

 

“He knows you’re here, Katniss.”

 

“I don’t care!” I snap at Peeta, unfairly I know. He’s only the messenger. I bite the inside of my cheek hard, willing the anger to dissipate. None of this is Peeta’s fault; he never puts his own worries ahead of my feelings. He’s allowing me to make my own decisions about Gale, even though it’s clearly causing him misery.

 

Peeta sighs again. “Okay,” is all he says, but his jaw is tensing and I can see his hands shake. My heart aches for him. Sending him back out there to deal with Gale could push him into an episode, so many of the false memories that his torturers implanted involve me running off into the woods with Gale. Peeta trusts me, of that I’m sure, but it isn’t always him. This is a situation where I can’t hide behind Peeta. I need to face this head on, myself. I grab both of his hands in mine.

 

“I’ll deal with him. Why don’t you take a little break, I’ll bring you some tea, okay?” He simply nods, looking exhausted and forlorn. I stand up on my toes and kiss him gently.

 

“I love you Peeta. Only you. Always” 

 

He relaxes a little and snakes his arms around my waist, resting his cheek against my hair. “I know,” he murmurs. We stand there holding each other until Peeta pulls back, kissing me gently on the forehead. “Can’t put it off forever Katniss.”

 

“I could try,” I pout, and Peeta smiles, a tentative, worried smile, but a smile nonetheless. I kiss him once more. “I’ll be right back with some tea for you.” He nods and takes the office chair I’ve vacated.

 

I walk away with more confidence than I’m feeling, but once I’m out of earshot of the office I lean against the wall in the kitchen and press my fists against my eyes _. I can’t do this I can’t do this I can’t do this,_ my mind chants. He killed her, he was my best friend and he killed the person who meant the world to me. I will away the tears that burn the back of my throat and walk out to the storefront.

 

He’s sitting at one of the tables by the window, chatting with Thom, his back to me. Even without seeing his face I know it’s him, I can feel his presence. That he’s with Thom gives me a bit of a reprieve, a buffer. 

 

I bring Peeta, who is thankfully now distracted with the paperwork I’d abandoned earlier, a cup of tea. I ruffle his hair affectionately, then head out front with two cups of coffee, setting the steaming mugs in front of Gale and Thom. Thom looks up in surprise, motioning for me to join them, so I take the chair beside him, closest to the window. Gale nods in my direction but quickly turns his attention back to Thom. They chat for a few minutes, I mostly listen, contributing little, and study Gale surreptitiously.  His clothes are immaculate and fashionable, nothing like the too-small threadbare things we wore in our old lives, or the functional grey uniforms of District 13. He’s filled out since our time in Thirteen too, the lankiness is all but gone, his shoulders are broader, his face less hollow. His long fingers are just the same though. I remember watching those fingers setting the most delicate of snares with ease, and just for a moment I’m filled with melancholy.

 

Lost in thought I don’t realize that Thom is taking his leave until I feel him touch my shoulder. “Thanks for the coffee, Katniss,” he says with a smile, but his eyes are concerned. Thom has been a good friend to me and to Peeta since we returned to the district two years ago; he helped build this bakery in fact.

 

“Bye Thom, come by for dinner soon, okay?”

 

“Reckon I’d like that. Take care, and give my best to Peeta.” he says as he heads for the door. I wave, watching him depart, and when the door closes with a tinkle of the bell I turn slowly back to those grey eyes I’ve been avoiding for over a year.

 

“Catnip,” he starts. I bristle; no one has called me that in so long. it feels foreign.

 

“Gale. I didn’t expect to see you around here.”

 

He smirks, “Well my family is living here now actually. Maybe you’ve seen them around?” He’s trying to tease, but I’m not in the mood. I just nod. “Want to go for a walk and we could talk?” he tries. “I haven’t seen our woods since before the war.”  _Our woods_? The pronoun choice bothers me, even if it’s something I think myself pretty frequently. He shouldn’t be claiming the woods anymore; he’s the one who chose not to come back. I glare at the table top.

 

“No, if you want to talk we talk here.” My voice sounds stronger than I’m feeling. I glance at his face and see his jaw tighten, anger flashing in his grey Seam eyes.

 

“Why, Peeta doesn’t trust you to take a walk with an old friend?” he sneers. Fury rises in my chest and I feel my face flush. 

 

“Peeta trusts me with his life.” I hold his stare and wait, watching as realization dawns.

 

“It’s me,” he whispers in disbelief, all of the bravado falling away.  “You don’t trust me!” His face twists, almost anguished. “You don’t trust me, Catnip?”

 

“I don’t know you Gale, not anymore.” I have to look away from the pain in his eyes, his pain has always pulled me to him and I have to stay strong, distant. I look out the window, at the people trudging through the snow in the square, going about their lives. “Maybe I never did.” I don’t realize I’ve said it out loud until I see his shoulders slump out of the corner of my eye.

 

We sit in silence for a long time, me looking blankly out the window, him studying the table top intently, sliding his coffee cup back and forth between his hands. “I didn’t know Katniss,” he begins softly, all of the veneer stripped away. “I didn’t know they had developed my design into a working weapon, and I didn’t know that they would use it. I sure as hell never imagined that Prim would be there! I’d give anything to have taken her place, for it to have been me instead.”  His voice breaks and sadness wells up in my throat. I can’t hate Gale, and in that moment I realize that I don’t blame him, not really.  In many ways he was as much a pawn in Coin’s plans as I was, an angry young man whose fire was stoked in Thirteen until the hatred was allowed to consume him.

 

I look into his silver-grey eyes, so like my own, where barely contained tears shimmer. He’s still so young. My heart thaws a little.  I sigh loudly. “I know.” It sounds defeated, even to my own ears.

 

“But you can’t forgive me.” His words are flat, a statement.

 

“I don’t blame you Gale, I just don’t know if I can ever look at you and not see… see her…” I can’t continue, but I know he understands. 

 

He’s silent for a long time.  “I see her every time I close my eyes Katniss. I see all of those children. Not a day goes by when I’m not consumed by guilt. I loved Prim like a sister. I miss her.” He’s silent for a moment before continuing, “I miss you too.” I nod again but stay silent. The air between us feels heavy, pregnant with things that neither of us can say. He drops his head into his hands before adding in a shaky voice, “I’m so sorry Katniss.” His shoulders tremble, but he remains silent.

 

Tentatively I reach out and pat his arm. It isn’t much, but it’s all I can give him.

 

We stay that way a long time, his head bowed, my hand on his arm. Finally he lifts his head, rubbing his red eyes with the heels of his hands. He clears his throat. “So, you and Peeta. You’re, uh, together?”

 

“Yes,” I say confidently. This is something Gale needs to understand if he’s going to be part of my life, no matter how small. There can’t be any mixed messages. Not this time.

 

“And he’s, uh, okay now? With the hijacking and all?” I nod. “Are you happy?” His voice catches a little.

 

“I am. It’s not always easy. We’re both still struggling with what they did to us, with what we saw and all we suffered, but we’re healing, together. We help each other.” He nods, and I know it’s not enough, that he does not understand what I’m trying to tell him.

 

“I love him, Gale.” I see surprise, and then a flicker of defeat in his eyes, but he simply nods again.

 

“I’m glad Catnip. You deserve to be happy.”

 

“I’m not always sure about that,” I say, “But we owe it the ones who are gone to live the best lives we can. All of us Gale.” I say pointedly. I do want him to be happy. The war took so much, and life is too short to deny any of us happiness.

 

We’re quiet for a long time, both lost in thoughts. Then he says, so softly, “If things had been different do you think we could have been happy together Katniss?” It’s a question I’ve asked myself before, more than once.

 

“We might have been for awhile, Gale, but you and I are too much alike. I think eventually we would have destroyed each other.”

 

He nods thoughtfully, then the corners of his mouth twitch and his eyes twinkle. “We’d have had fun trying though.” He winks, and I can’t help laughing. I shove his shoulder and he smiles, a real smile this time. “Listen, I need to get back, I’m heading out tomorrow and I’ve hardly seen my mom or the kids.” He’s wistful now. “Thanks for talking with me Catnip.”

 

“I’m glad we did,” I admit. He stands to leave, I can sense that he’d like to hug me, but I’m not ready for that yet. Instead I grab his hand and give it a gentle squeeze. “Keep in touch, Gale.”

 

“You too Catnip,” and then he’s gone, pulling his jacket on as he walks into the snow. As I watch him walk away, Peeta’s arms wrap around me and he rests his head on my shoulder. I lean back into him, closing my eyes and sighing.

 

“Okay?” He asks. I nod. And I am. It was difficult, and I don’t doubt that there will be nightmares tonight, but right now I’m all right, and that’s something.


End file.
